


mistaken

by unholyconfessions (orphan_account)



Series: cure for the enemy [2]
Category: Chicago Med
Genre: Episode Related, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Set During 1.04 - Mistaken
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 20:07:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5715460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/unholyconfessions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor's content enough knowing that he wasn't mistaken; that there’s a beating heart inside that chest, that Dr. Halstead isn’t <em>just</em> that, a doctor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	mistaken

**Author's Note:**

> So, here it is! 
> 
> In this one I mostly re-wrote or added small details to scenes from the episode, but I hope y'all enjoy it nonetheless. Now onto the next.
> 
> Feedback is love. Enjoy! :-)

Connor is on his way to meet Reese and April by the entrance when Halstead marches past them, already in his scrubs, without so much as a backward glance.

He's about to do the same to Connor when Connor calls after him, "No coffee today?”

Halstead stops to give him a half shrug, says, “I ran late,” and doesn't reciprocate Connor's small smile.

There’s a second’s silence before Halstead moves again, feet against the pristine floor, and Connor reaches for him, but not far enough to touch. Halstead follows the movement with his eyes as Connor draws his hand back. Connor chooses his next words carefully.

“Um, we’re getting some food,” he says, slipping his fists inside the pockets of his hoodie just to have something to do with them. He mirrors Halstead’s nonchalant shrug, adds, “If you wanna join us.”

“Okay,” Halstead replies, simply, and Connor takes it as a yes.

In the end, it’s not so much a yes as it is a _yes, I’ll watch you get expensive street food for everyone while I judge you from over here,_ but Connor isn't about to lose sleep over it.

After April gets her order, Connor offers him again, out of politeness more than anything else, “Hey, Will, you sure you’re good?”

Using Halstead’s first name seems inappropriate somehow, like he doesn't deserve it. Maybe it's just habit, or maybe he doesn't see Halstead as a person, not yet.

“Yeah, I brought something from home,” is the answer he gets, and he can’t help but feel like Halstead just doesn’t want to owe him one, even if it’s just street food, not an expensive tie.

He tries not to listen to the conversation between Halstead and Manning as he bites down onto his burrito, but as he chews, Halstead’s voice sounds in the distance, “All right, we get it. He’s rich.”

April defends him, but he doesn’t think it’ll help his case.

*

Crazy doesn’t even begin to describe the day they’re having, but when it comes to Chicago and guns, what could he expect?

He’s doing his best to save this kid, this incredibly stupid kid, even if Halstead looks like he would rather be shot himself than save this kid’s life.

This isn’t about morals; it isn’t even about the law. It’s about saving someone’s life, because that’s what they _chose_ to do, no matter what, and while Halstead might think it is worth letting this kid die, Connor knows he would regret it. He wouldn’t be a doctor if his morals were that bent.

“Good luck,” Halstead gibes as Connor realizes this kid doesn't stand a chance outside of the operating room.

The sarcasm isn’t lost on Connor. He answers on the same vein, says, “I’ll let you write it up in JAMA when he pulls through,” and leaves without another look at Halstead.

It isn’t better in the OR. Zanetti seems unconcerned as the kid’s life hangs in the balance, and while she isn’t as unmotivated as Halstead, the indifference feels worse.

*

Connor doesn’t see much of Halstead until he’s about to leave, and it’s better that way.

Between trying to saving a life and getting yelled at by rightfully-distraught relatives, he hasn’t got enough time or willpower to try and maintain a healthy relationship with anyone, especially Halstead. 

“See you later,” he mutters, his eyes flitting up to meet Halstead’s for a half-second before he stares back at the floor, intent on getting home.

“Hey, your transplant patient,” he hears Will say—the person, not the doctor, _finally_ —and maybe he was right after all. “How’s he doing?”

Connor turns back around, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he thinks of what to say before deciding that he’s too tired to think. 

“He’s gonna make it,” he offers. “I suppose you think he didn’t deserve to get that liver.”

“Who am I to judge?”

Connor means to respond to that with… something, but doesn’t. 

He doesn’t want to have that conversation, not right now. He’d rather not ruin the moment with a speech about their responsibility as medical professionals, about upholding the law or something or other. 

He’s content enough knowing that he wasn't mistaken; that there’s a beating heart inside that chest, that Dr. Halstead isn’t _just_ that, a doctor.

"Sorry about your coffee."

Connor chuckles despite the seriousness in Will's tone, mutters, "Don't worry about it," and goes home.


End file.
